Erotic Fiction vs Real Life

What the hell, if you’re going to do Grease, Rizzo has to miss her period, it’s integral, I could give two fucks that they’re eight. Maybe don’t do Grease until everyone is menstruating, John Travolta is turning in his grave!

I also yell at books. Andy hates when I read next to him, because it’s a mix of exaggerated sighs and moments where I just toss the Kindle on the floor and walk away.

Yeah, you remember that it’s not an actual book, right? Because you keep doing this and I’m beginning to think you have an anger problem.

It could be due to sloppy grammar, asinine plots lines, ridiculous character names, the list goes on. But the biggest offender? Erotic fiction. Smut. I know, I read a ton of it and I love it, but I swear to God, I have yet to come across a book that doesn’t have me, at least once, questioning my taste in literature.

I’ll be blunt… it’s just not fucking realistic. Think sparkly brooding vampires or coming of age English wizards are hard to swallow? Try spending the day in Smutville, but leave your lube and concept of plausibility at home, you won’t need either of them.

My body betrayed me.Yeah, I’m not sure what kind of self esteem issues you have going on here in Smut Town, but aside from a wonky gallbladder, crapping my pants in college, or the occasional weird vagina noise during sex (it’s just air, y’all), my body almost never betrays me. The whole situation where some douchebag in a fancy suit is taking his man-period out on me on the regular until one day he grabs my thigh, and suddenly against my will, my nipples go hard? Yeah, that never happens. In the words of Taylor Swift, like… ever.

I felt him release inside of me. Maybe I have an insensitive vagina, but I’ve never felt anything shot from any penis, inside me. Honestly, this sounds weird and make me question his diet and flow issues, he should probably see a urologist.

She was so wet it was dripping. Alright, first, ew. Second, if my sheets had a catch phrase, it’d be “get the stuff.” And by “stuff,” I mean lube. In Eroticville, I’ve never once read about a couple in the heat of the moment reaching in the drawer for that one sticky bottle of lube. So either they are lying, or there’s a whole gaggle of fictional women limping around with a bad case of rug burn.

Herpes and pregnancy don’t exist. “I’m on the pill and disease free according to my doctor who I see regularly for screenings like most normal women my age who can totally afford their birth control and office visit co-pays.” “Sounds legit, let’s have sex.” People, if this was true, we wouldn’t need Maury. But it isn’t. And we do.

Yeast infections and UTIs also don’t exist. In Smutty Town, people have crazy sex, put stuff in their vaginas then butts then vaginas again, climax, and then either go about their work day or fall asleep in bed together. A. It’s like wiping, y’all; front to back. And B. if I don’t hop out of bed and squat over a toilet to let everything fall out of me for five minutes, I’m looking at at least a week of yogurt and Pyridium.

Nobody’s had their first period yet. Apparently. Either the entire book is so well timed that it coincides with the 24 days the woman is not menstruating, or everyone in Smut Springs has early onset menopause, it could be environmental, somebody should test the soil and water sources. The exception being, shudder, when Christan pulled Ana’s tampon out in Fifty Shades of Grey. That really happened, I remember because I was eating soup during that part, and now I can’t eat soup. Remember guys, it’s not love until you have the sex during your period talk.

Vagina synonyms are hard. “He stroked my sex…” alright you know what, I’m gonna stop you right there. You know who talks like that? Creepy guys on AOL Instant Messenger and Buffalo Bill…he makes her put the lotion on it, I mean, we can all hear him saying that right now, right!? Sex, cookie, folds, slick entrance, core, womanhood, oonie, bud, kitty, mound, honey-bucket, apex (dude, is that a math word!?). I know the word vagina can get redundant, and pussy seems crass, so I’ve come up with some alternatives to help break things up a bit and feel less like I’m describing intercourse to my grandmother…. bungalow of shame, the deathly hallows, snack pack, Narnia, panty canoe, nut snuggie, absolutely any of the first names from the show Happy Days.

He’s hard… again. Who’s writing this book? Dudes? And I’m not just saying that because I assume guys want to make it sound like they are bad asses, I just assume it’s a man because what kind of woman actually wants to have sex for over 30 minutes? Anymore than that and my crotch goes numb, I walk funny, and I’m craving Hot Pockets.

Living in a word without backne or razor burn or leg stubble sounds lovely, I like to visit there sometimes, but I can only suspend reality for so long until I throw my Kindle across the room and stomp away.

I mean, my weepy entry can only take so much embellished fictional pounding until it starts to feel like a disillusioned stretched out purse you can’t seem to find your ringing cell phone in. How that for erotic prose?

Comments

Alright not only could I not stop laughing, but after reading the comments, let out a sigh of relief (along with more laughter).
So I’d like to think my Nightosphere (narnia, deathly hallows etc (snagging that last one, that’s great!)) betrays me, but at the same time, I wonder if I should just take the time to figure it out, have some one on one time. Cuz yeah, I can be drippy, and other times we’ll have to use lube. I guess it’s all in the mood.
Other wise also good to know that i’m not the only on that can’t tell when my guy has finished, he usually has to push me off him, then i growl, cuz you know a little effort in expressions can go a long way if he doesn’t bother telling me he’s about blow (OH hey he looks at ease and pleased with himself now, i can stop and take a shower).
Sooooo much useful info here.
Love it!

I’m a huge reader of smut! MY pet peeve is women who can have morning sex without peeing first. ESPECIALLY, if they’ve already had children. Children wreck your bladder . But even in the movie Friends with Benefits, Justin Timberlake gets up in the middle of sex (and gives us a glimpse of his delectable behind) to pee. Hilarious scene, as he tries to pee through a hard-on. In fact people rarely pee in books, or take a crap for that matter. You never read, “OMG! I was really nervous because after that super romantic date with Big Dick Rick (because no SmutHero has a small cock) at the Bombay Palace, I agreed to go back to his studio apartment and now I have to take an explosive crap and YOU KNOW he’s gonna smell it! Shit!”

Can I say this… I love that theyre not realistic. :-0 I think thats part of the attraction for me! I have so much real life stuff to deal with, I love that I can get lost in this world! Its not too far out there, like some made up planet crap, but its kinda real, in that could, probably not going to in a bizillion years, but not as far out there as say another universe! I hope this makes some sort of sense… I just feel like its a nice escape from this reality that isn’t illegal, can’t get arrested or divorced over. So, I’ll take the smut. Even in the alternate universe. <3

you are freaking hilaaaaarious. i probably should not have read this at work because 1. questionable material and 2. i’m currently hiding behind my computer screen trying not to giggle out loud uncontrollably.

I also bow to you for your expression “Nut Snuggie”. I’m 56, have had 6 back surgeries and a complete hysterectomy and bladder suspension (which has dropped again). Anytime I’m caught off guard I’m going to piss myself. Sneezing, coughing, laughing – some of you know the drill. I’ve been married 33 years. If my husband had ever tried to bend me over a sawhorse and beat my ass with a “singletail” ala Christian, I probably would have had a flashback to my abusive father and shot my husbands balls off. This is my problem: My sweet daughter-in-law thought I would like 50 Shades of Grey and I did – very much. It made me long to be 25 again and still be able to spread my legs without my hip joints completly locking up and my arches seizing into muscle spasms. However, after reading the Smut Book of 2012….now I’m freaking addicted to Smutville. My Kindle is about to explode and Amazon has offered me stock in the company. Me – a person who constantly read world current event books, studied religion, and have Excel spreadsheets cataloging my books which exceed 500 – not counting the 500 on my Kindle. I need therapy! Oh — and I’m glad other people noticed that these crazy fuckers never wash their asses and stick their tongues in each others asses. May I say e-coli people…….Oh yes – and then immediately kiss me please. I love your blog – this is my first time to read and I definitely am a new fan!! And if anyone knows of a Rehab place for addicts of smut – I’d appreciate a referral that accepts Blue Cross and Blue Shield. And last but not least…..in the words of my sainted mother, “Honey, my pussy has dried up and haired over”………so never to my knowledge have I been so “hot and wet” that I had moisture dripping down my thighs. But I’m still willing to give it a try……

Trackbacks

[…] My love affair with Brittany began one winter a few years back when she wrote a post titled Erotic Fiction Vs Real Life. I laughed for days and made anyone who would listen to me, read the article. Now of course you […]